


A Pirate's Life For Me

by yawnekxela



Category: Original Work
Genre: 18th Century, Other, Pirates, Voodoo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:51:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3890131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yawnekxela/pseuds/yawnekxela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grubbs Morrison believes his father is still alive. When the opportunity strikes for him to go look, he ends up getting into more trouble than he bargained for. Is any of this even worth it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I started this story a long time ago, posted it on ff.net, took it down for editing, posted it on fp.com and again, took it down for editing. I put my soul into this story, though it's still probably not perfect. But this is the last edit for the first chapter I'm ever going to do. So, here it is. Enjoy, I guess.

**England, April 1756**

The day was a typical hell for Grubbs. The sky was foggy and gray as it always was. It was almost six in the evening and since six in the morning, he had been out at sea fishing. Grubbs loved the sea for it was the only place he could be alone and free; however he never went out far enough to enjoy it. He always dreamed of being a pirate. Just to be free from rules and routine. Every day, he would go to the same spot, at the buoys that were never to be passed and sit there for twelve hours just to fish. Some days were better than others but even good days ended with Grubbs’ bitch of a boss, Joanne. She was the only reason Grubbs had ever contemplated suicide; but his love for the sea kept him alive.

Grubbs made his way to the dock on his boat, and held up the two buckets of fish he caught today with his foot as the waves of the shallow waters rocked the boat. In the distance, he saw the seafood shop in which he worked. His dread during his approach to shore mounted as he saw Joanne step out of the door and wait for him with a scowl on her face. Her face seemed stuck like that because that was the only facial expression Grubbs had ever seen on her.

Upon his arrival to the dock, he tied up the boat and removed the two buckets of fish and set them on the floor next to him. It wasn’t long until he heard Joanne’s familiarly aggy voice.

“Morrison! Hurry up with those damned fish,” yelled Joanne from the shop, “you good for nothing bastard!”

As usual, Grubbs rolled his eyes and wished Joanne would die so he wouldn’t have to put up with her anymore. With a sigh of desperation, he picked up the buckets full of fish and hauled it to the shop. “Where do you want them?” he asked Joanne as calmly as he possibly could, careful not to show in his face how heavy the two buckets were.

“You know damn well where I want them!” Joanne spat. “Take them to the barrels in the back! And go around. I don’t want this place smelling like fish.”

 _‘It’s a seafood shop, you old hag!’_ Grubbs thought. _‘The place smells like fish every damn day!’_ Yet Grubbs bit his tongue as he did not want to get in trouble…again. He held his breath and hastily made his way into the alley, around the building, to the back. It reeked of fish and last night’s rainstorm. Not a pleasant combination. It took all of Grubbs’ willpower not to gag and drop the buckets of fish. Once he approached the barrels on either side of the back door, he quickly dumped the two buckets inside and made his way to the front.

As he exited the ally, the bell from the clock in the middle of the town tolled and marked it the hour of six in the evening—and the end of Grubbs’ shift. A small smile appeared on his lips as he sighed in relief. He set the buckets down by the front entrance of the shop and started to head home.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Joanne called to him.

“Home!” Grubbs replied. “My shift’s over.”

“You good for nothing bastard!”

As per usual, Grubbs ignored the insults from his boss as he made his way home.

 

The walk home was long, but worth every mile if it meant he was farther away from Joanne. All he had to dread now was the sight of her tomorrow morning.

Every evening, Grubbs thought about his father and how he died when Grubbs was twelve years old. From what Grubbs can recall, his father was a pirate and died at sea, supposedly after he came into contact with the _Flying Dutchman_. It was then that Grubbs vouched to become a pirate and avenge his father. However, that was only a rumor. No one believed that the _Flying Dutchman_ really existed, for it was only a ghost ship in nautical tales. But Grubbs believed it. He had not let it go. When out at sea every day, it took all his willpower to not go farther and live his dream. Multiple times, he’d gone out a little farther just feel free.

Whenever he thought of his father, he wondered how he died. Was it quick and painless? Or was he mercilessly tortured? These are questions Grubbs asked daily. Was it honorable or was it cowardly?

His thoughts were cut off by a low rumbling noise and a few seconds later, he felt an uncomfortable movement in my abdomen. He was hungry. Twelve hours without eating every day took a toll on him at the end of his shifts. Every day, however, he would stop by the local bakery to buy some bread and pastries. It was all he could really afford with the little money that Joanne paid him.

As he approached the bakery, he began to reach into his pocket for the money. He knew exactly what he wanted to buy and how much it cost. He bought the same things every day. He walked into the bakery and breathed in the familiar scent of baked goods and bread. “Mr. Morrison!” a female’s voice yelled from the behind the counter as Grubbs walked through the door. The baker’s seventeen-year-old daughter ran the front of the shop while her father and older brother stood in the back all day baking. “You’re just in time! Father’s just finishing up your bread and mini cakes.”

“Good evening, Katherine,” Grubbs responded with a smile as he made his way to the counter.

“Is that Grubbs Morrison I hear?” a deep voice boomed from behind the door that Katherine stood in front of. Not two seconds later, the baker himself burst through the door. The baker was a large man, with a personality to match. He was friendly with everyone, but he was especially to Grubbs for the sole fact that he was great friends with Grubbs’ father. He looked after Grubbs when his father disappeared and he was the only one who believed Grubbs when he said his father was somehow still alive. While years later, the baker doubted William Morrison was still alive, he did not have the heart to tell Grubbs the reality. “How’s my boy doing today?” he asked.

“I’m doing fine today, George,” Grubbs answered. “Much better these days.”

“I hear you. How’s that old hag, Janice?”

“Joanne,” he corrected. “Still alive, unfortunately.” Grubbs’ boss was well known around the port as the ‘old hag who hasn’t croaked.’ The baker never respected her enough to remember her name. Whenever he asked Grubbs about her, the name changed each time to any female name beginning with the letter J.

“She’ll die soon. I can feel it.” It made Grubbs happy that many people shared the same resent towards his boss as he did. “Your bread is finished. Fresh out the oven. As are your mini seed cake and mini spice cake.”

“Amazing.” Grubbs was intensely famished from the day he spent out on that boat. He had not eaten before he went to work that day, a mistake he commonly made. He was just grateful that he survived long enough to make it to the bakery.

“Katherine, get Mr. Morrison’s bread and cakes from the cooling rack.” Katherine did as she was told and retrieved the baked goods from the back. When she came back, she placed everything on the counter and began to place them in a bag for him to carry. Grubbs put the money on the counter and grabbed the bag. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, this is all. Thank you so much. I greatly appreciate everything.”

“Wait, before you leave, I want you to take this.” As if that was a cue, George’s son came out from the back with a small cup. “I made this for you to try. Come back tomorrow to tell me how you like it.”

Grubbs took the cup and looked at the white pastry inside. He had absolutely no idea what it was. “What is it?” he asked.

“Syllabub.” With that said, the baker retreated into the back area where he emerged from before.

“You’ll like it. Trust me,” Katherine smiled.

“I don’t doubt I will. Have a nice night.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Morrison. See you tomorrow.”

With that said, Grubbs continued home.

Grubbs never immediately went home after the bakery. He never liked to eat at home. There was nothing to look at while he enjoyed his bread and cakes. He always wanted a view while he ate, something beautiful that would only allow him to think happy thoughts and amplify the taste of his food. He always opted for the docks. At this time of day, they were usually empty. Not many ships made port in the evening so Grubbs had them all to himself while he ate. He made his way to the outermost dock and sat down on the edge. He stared out into the horizon. He imagined a sunset in the distance because he could not actually see one since England never saw the sun. The sound of the waves was relaxing to him. He pulled out the mini spice cake from the bag and began to eat it. In his hunger, he ate it in almost four bites. Then he did the same to the seed cake. The two cakes did nothing to his hunger and he began to devour the loaf of bread, piece by piece.

When he was down to the last piece of bread, he took in the scenery of the ocean in front of him. It was definitely something worth admiring. Ships on the horizon, either sailing away or coming to the port. Almost all of the ships were recognizable—almost. There was one ship in particular that Grubbs did not recall ever seeing before. It was a frigate, from what Grubbs could tell and no battleships belonged to this port. It was also approaching the port. _‘Odd,’_ Grubbs thought as he stared at the mystery ship and ate the last piece of bread. _‘Oh! The syllabub!’_ He remembered the new pastry he was given and picked it up, examining it closely. _‘It looks really good. But I think I need a spoon.’_ As he did not have a spoon, Grubbs decided to eat it nonchalantly out of the cup. It was not a solid consistency and he could almost drink it. It tasted of cream and cider. The blend was sweet and addicting. _‘This is delicious!’_ He ate it quickly and immediately wanted more. _‘I’m going to add this to my list of things to get every day.’_ He already began to plan to order it for the next day so he could enjoy it after his shift.

With all of his food gone, Grubbs took one last look at the horizon and the mysterious approaching ship and decided to get up and go home. As he walked, he began to think of his father again. Something that bothered Grubbs everyday was the feeling in his gut that told him he was alive, yet no one actually believed he was.

“How was your day, Mr. Morrison?” a voice asked. The suddenness of it completely derailed Grubbs’ train of thought. It was the elderly man who lived on the floor below Grubbs’. Grubbs didn’t know his name and never bothered to ask. Nevertheless every evening, the man sat outside the building, smoking his pipe and watched as people went by. He never seemed to look at Grubbs, but always looked ahead.

“Same as every other day, sir,” Grubbs answered politely. The man didn’t seem to realize that Grubbs didn’t know his name--or he just didn’t mind.

“That ol’ bitch Joanne still alive?” A small smile appeared on his lips, still not making eye-contact with the younger man.

“Unfortunately,” Grubbs replied with a small polite laugh.

“It’ll happen soon. I can feel it.”

“I look forward to it.” As Grubbs was about to walk inside, the man spoke again.

“Grubbs...” his voice was ominous and caused Grubbs to pause.

“Y-yes...sir?” He was baffled. In almost ten years, the man always addressed him as ‘Mr. Morrison.’ Grubbs only ever mentioned once to the man that his name is Grubitsch but he never mentioned that he goes by Grubbs. It was odd to hear the old man call him something other than ‘Mr. Morrison’, and with such a dark and unsettling tone.

“Dead men tell no tales...”

“I-I’m sorry?” he responded.

“Beware the undead man of the sea.”

  _'W_ _hat does that even mean?’_

“He who captains the _Flying Dutchman_.”

Grubbs’ eyes widened at the mention of the ghost ship. “The _Flying Dutchman_?” Grubbs rushed. “What about it? What about its captain?” He was eager for an explanation. Why was the old man mentioning this out of the blue? Did he know something about Grubbs’ father?

“You will experience deceit and the highest degree of grief. Trust no one.”

“What do you mean?”

A few seconds passed, with the feel of an eternity to Grubbs. The man looked at Grubbs with wide innocent eyes; the first time he ever made eye-contact with the young man. “What?” the old man asked as if he just joined in on the conversation.

 “The _Flying Dutchman_ ,” Grubbs said. “And its captain. You mentioned them, telling me to be cautious. And you said I would experience deceit and grief and not to trust anyone.”

“I’m sorry, I do not recall.”

Grubbs felt his heart sink as a wave of disappointment washed over him. “Right...okay. Never mind, then. Have a nice night.” With that said, Grubbs started to walk inside.

“You too, Mr. Morrison.”

Grubbs paused for a second before he shook his head and continued on into his home.

Grubb’s home was a three storey building, or rather a two storey building with an attic, in which Grubbs resided. It had been converted into an apartment of sorts. In the attic, Grubbs had his own toilet and sink, but he did not have a kitchen. He had lived there since his father’s disappearance. A newlywed couple who was expecting their first child in the coming months occupied the first floor. Grubbs never really associated with them other than the occasional greetings upon passing them by the front door. The old man outside occupied the second floor. He owned the building and took Grubbs in when his father disappeared. He never made Grubbs pay any sort of rent and for that, Grubbs was grateful. However, it was unknown to Grubbs whether the old man made the couple downstairs pay rent.

Grubbs made his way up the stairs to his attic and went straight to his window where he had a view of the harbor. He opened his window and took a long stare at the stranger ship on the horizon. It wasn’t flying any colors that he could see. _‘Hopefully they’ll bring business to this dead port,’_ he thought with a yawn. He left his window open and began to take off his shirt as he made his way to his bed. He was exhausted from the day. He fell onto his bed and listened to the familiarly calming sounds of the harbor and civilization outside his window. As he slowly drifted off to sleep, he could only dread having to wake up for work the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

**England, April 1756**

Grubbs awoke to the sound of people yelling outside. It was dark which meant he only slept for a few hours, but he felt as if he just awoke from a coma. He woke up feeling confused about the time and day. He looked outside his window and saw a large full moon. He could indicate by the size of the moon that it was around midnight. He let out a deep sigh and began to collect himself. Many questions ran through his mind about is encounter earlier with the old man downstairs. What did the old man know about the _Flying Dutchman_? What did he mean by 'beware its captain'? Did this have something to do with Grubbs’ father? Was his father the one the old man said was alive? Grubbs feared these questions would never be answered because the old man had no recollection of even saying these things and no one else believed William Morrison to be alive. At this point, Grubbs knew he was not going back to sleep. Without a second thought, he decided to take a walk to clear his mind.

He sat up on his bed and swung his legs over the edge, his feet immediately met the cold, hardwood floor and he stretched the limbs that lay motionless for almost five hours. He shuffled to the other side of the room and silently prayed that the creaky floor would not disturb the old man below. He grabbed his shirt from the floor and lazily put it on. He slipped on his shoes and made his way to the window. The people that woke him up were still outside. They were a man and a woman. They walked as they argued and Grubbs noticed they did not speak English. He could not even begin to figure out what language it could have been because he had never even heard it before.

A small awning covered the front door and Grubbs’ window was right above it. The only obstacle was the entire second floor in between. Grubb did not let it stop him, though. He took a leap of faith and jumped from his window to the awning. From the awning to the ground was hardly even a jump for him. Nevertheless, he still managed to hurt his ankle a bit when he landed. “Dammit!” he said as he rolled his ankle to try to ease the little that pain he had. He tried not to yell for the sake of others. When he was finally over the whole ordeal, he began to walk.

The night air was dry and warm--unusual for a town on the water, especially in April. As he headed in no particular direction, he walked along the waistline-high wall that just barely separated land and sea. He looked over the wall at the boats docked in the harbor. The water was calm and quiet—peaceful. He felt a simple serenity wash over him. He stopped, caught in a worry-free thoughtless feeling and leaned over the wall to stare out at the sea. He did not want the peace to end; but a tap on his shoulder abruptly interrupted him.

"Excuse me..." a voice said. Grubbs turned around to see a young woman. “Where is the nearest tavern?” From her features—and her accent— it was obvious that she was not from around here; or from Europe at all. She was oriental. Grubbs assumed she was Chinese. She didn’t wear a dress, like other women. She wore a plain shirt and trousers.

“Uh,” Grubbs answered, surprised to see an Asian woman speak perfect English. It was obvious English was not her first language; but clear that she had spoken it for a while. “It’s down that road, about three blocks.” He pointed to the nearest intersected road.

“Thank you,” she said with a small bow and in her language, called a large oriental man to follow her. Grubbs then realized that they were the two people that he saw arguing in another language. They made their way down the route that Grubbs pointed out. It was a little strange to Grubbs that a Chinese woman who wore men’s clothes sought out a tavern. However, he did not think much beyond it after that. He had other things on his mind.

As he hoped to go back to his daydream, he looked back at the water; but this time, he noticed a large unfamiliar shadow out at the pier. He squinted harder and realized it was the stranger ship he saw earlier. Curiosity rushed over Grubbs in a wave of excitement. With no second thought, he began to make his way to the docks of the port. He wanted to get a closer look at the colors. The ship had been docked at the outermost pier and Grubbs thought it was odd that they did not dock closer. He began to make his way down the pier and as he got closer to the ship, Grubbs came to realize that it was not a battle ship of any navy. There were no English, Spanish, French, or Portuguese colors on it. Could it have been a rogue ship? Another thing that caught Grubbs’ attention was the color of the sails themselves. They were black. As he approached the ship, he saw words carved into the wood. At least he thought they were words. There were no letters, only characters. Grubbs could only assume it was Chinese. He began to derive a conclusion. The two Asians he had just seen, the Chinese writing on the wood of the ship, the fact that there were no colors flying. This was their ship. It had to be. He had never seen them before and it only made more sense why this ship was strange to him from the beginning.

Just as Grubbs was about to celebrate his epiphany, he heard voices coming from where the pier he stood on began. He looked in the direction of the noise and saw the two Asians running toward the ship. Each of them carried multiple bottles. It took him a second to remember that he had just pointed them in the direction of a tavern, and by the way they were running, he understood that he assisted in the robbing of a tavern. However, he had no time to dwell on the fact. He needed to hide, and fast.

Quickly, he climbed up the side of the ship and looked over. Not seeing anyone, he climbed over and made his way down the open hatch, which led to the next deck below and hid under the staircase until he thought of a new plan.

His heart began to race as it started to set into him what he was getting himself into. He was on a mysterious ship that belonged to total strangers, hiding from said strangers because he was curious about their ship. It seemed quite asinine when he thought about it; however, there was nothing he could do about the issue at this point. All he could do was stay quiet and stay unseen.

Not too much later, he heard the voices of the woman and the man. They spoke to each other in their language, which Grubbs assumed again was Chinese. He flinched and stepped back as they came down the stairs. Once their conversation ended, she switched to English, her accent sounding more understandable.

“Put the rum and sake in the storage crates of the bottom deck,” she said. “We need to leave this port before we’re caught.” The man nodded as she piled the bottles she held atop the ones he had. As she walked away, she started to yell commands in Chinese and ran back up the stairs. Not too long after, men started to come out of the rooms and yelled in the same language as scrambled above and below deck.

Grubbs crouched under the stairs and waited for a chance to come out. As the men scrambled, Grubbs noticed that most of them, if not all of them, were Asian and none of them wore military uniforms.

A few minutes passed before the deck was vacant and quiet, with the muffled sounds of the entire crew that came from the deck above. This was Grubbs’ chance to find a better spot to hide. He came out from under the stairs and found another hatch. This one led to the second gun deck. _‘Perfect,’_ Grubbs thought, as he climbed down the ladder. It was pitch black but Grubbs still attempted to make his way to the next hatch that led to the third and final gun deck.

The third gun deck had no guns. It was used as means of storage for rum, wood, sugar and other miscellaneous items. About five feet into the darkness, all sight was completely lost and Grubbs tripped over what felt like a crate and it caused him to hit the ground hard. He felt the object with his hand and came to the conclusion that it was indeed a crate. He sat up on his knees and decided it would be safer to crawl his way to the back. So he did. He made his way around more crates and noticed a path.

It felt like an eternity before Grubbs’ head hit the wall of the back of the ship. He made a loud grunt and immediately regretted it in case someone could have heard it. As he hoped no one did, he slowly turned and leaned against the wall and let out a big sigh. “What have I gotten myself into?” he asked himself, quietly.

Minutes passed by as Grubbs sat with his back against the wall. He could still hear the footsteps and yelling of the people above. He grew out of the fear of being caught and began to grow tired. “I should be fine,” he said as he yawned. He searched in the dark for the corner of the deck and could map out where the crates were. To his knowledge, he was behind a wall of crates, which was safe enough for him to fall asleep and not be seen. At least until morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are non-English phrases in this chapter. I apologize to anyone who doesn't understand Japanese or Spanish, but it's part of the story. They aren't difficult phrases, and there aren't many of them.

**Atlantic Ocean, April 1756**

Little light shown through the small gun holes of the deck and along with the sound of gulls outside, it was enough to wake Grubbs up. He groaned as he tried to get his eyes adjusted to the light. He rubbed his eyes hard and blinked away the sting of the morning. A slight feeling of nausea crept up his throat from his stomach. He looked around and took in his surroundings. He spotted a bucket and kept it in mind in case he had to vomit. To his right, there was a ladder. Ahead of him, there were crates scattered around stacked in threes, fours, and fives. What he pictured in his mind from what he felt in the dark was only partially true. He was behind three stacks of crates, each only four high. He squinted to see the hatch he used to get to the third gun deck last night.

Last night.

The night before started to come back to him. The Chinese woman, the ship, the Chinese writing. All of it slowly but surely came back. Then, with a gasp, he realised he was still on the ship. He was most likely in the middle of the ocean by now. He panicked a little because he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to get caught, however, he had no idea how to get back.

Then he paused.

Maybe this was a good thing. If he wasn’t on the ship, he would be at work. That was an upside. He hadn’t seen Joanne since the day before and it was a happier thought to never see her again.

Grubbs stood up, swayed back and leaned onto the wall. He felt nauseous again. He thought about going topside, hopefully blend in with the crew. He couldn’t think too clearly as he took his first step and tripped over a crate. “Dammit!” he yelled.

“Oi!” a voice responded. Someone sat up on the floor and Grubbs realised it was the Chinese woman from the night before. She began to yell at him in Chinese, only to stop abruptly as she realised he was not Asian. “Who are you?” she demanded, as she rose quickly and drew her sword. “You’ve got a lot of nerve stowing away on a pirate ship.” Her tone was firm and she sounded like she wouldn’t hesitate to kill him and the way she put the blade of her sword meant she was serious.

Grubbs’ eyes widened. “Pirate?” he repeated. Now it all made sense. They stole the alcohol. That’s why they didn’t want to get _caught_. “It all makes sense now,” he whispered.

“What makes sense?” She pushed the sword against his throat a little more.

If Grubbs could recall correctly, Grubbs had heard of a Chinese female pirate. “You’re Hsi Kai, aren’t you?” he asked, confident he was correct. There was a long pause and the tension around them grew thick.

She looked at him angrily, sheathed her sword, and slapped him across the face. “Don’t you ever confuse me with that whore again!” she yelled. Grubbs rubbed his face where he was slapped. It started to sting. This woman was scary. “That prostitute can go to hell. It would do the world some good.” She trailed off and muttered in her language.

“I’m sorry!” Grubbs said. “I just thought you were Chinese and--”

He was cut off by another slap to the face. “I’m Japanese.” She slapped him once more. “I’m also a little intoxicated.”

“So early in the morning?”

She slapped him again. “Don’t judge me.”

Grubbs caught her hand as she swung for another slap. “All right,” Grubbs pleaded. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I mistook you for Hsi Kai. I’m sorry I thought you were Chinese. Just please...stop slapping me.”

She smirked at his begging. “What’s your name, Stowaway?”

“Grubitsch...Grubitsch Morrison.” She looked at him oddly. “I know, it’s an odd name. I usually go by Grubbs.”

“You white men have odd names.”

“And you Asian women hit _really_ hard.” He touched his face. The sting of the slaps had not yet subsided.

“I’m heavy-handed...and drunk,” she repeated.

“So early in the morning?”

“I had a... _rough_ night.” She sat down nonchalantly on a crate.

“You know...it’s odd to see a woman on a pirate ship,” said Grubbs, slightly amused.

“Oh? Why is that?” she replied with a smirk.

“It’s just not common. Were you taken captive?” He thought she could have adapted to the life.

“No.”

“Are you a stowaway?” Maybe they just accepted her. Hopefully they’ll do the same to him.

“Nope.”

“Then are you close with the Captain?”

“More or less...”

Grubbs figured she had to be the Captain’s girlfriend or maybe a concubine.

“Speaking of the Captain,” he wondered, “where is he?”

Just as he asked, a crew member came down the stairs from the deck above.  “Captain,” he gasped, out of breath, and in Japanese informed the woman, “we’ve come across a Spanish ship. What do we do?”

Grubbs stared at the woman in disbelief. She responded with an authoritative smirk.  “ _She_ ,” emphasising the gender to Grubbs, “is right in front of you.” She stood up and turned towards the other man. “Let them make the first strike,” she told him in Japanese, leaving Grubbs out of the loop. “Then we ram them and take over. Subete o toru.” _Take what you can._ “Mattaku modoranai.” _Give nothing back._

Grubbs felt so lost. He couldn’t understand a word. He noticed the other man looking right at him. So did the Captain. She looked back at Grubbs.

“Take the stowaway to my cabin,” she said in English. Grubbs admired the way she transitioned between languages. “But don’t harm him.”

Grubbs felt slightly scared by the second part. She made it seem like she was going to harm him herself. Which sounds worse than just being sent to the gallows. He had no idea what to expect of this woman. She seemed so unpredictable. Nevertheless, he was interested in her story.

The three made their way to the ladder. The crew member stopped and let the Captain go up first. _‘A pirate code? Or just plain chivalry?’_ It made Grubbs wonder, can pirates be chivalrous? They _were_ Japanese after all and the Japanese were known for their well-mannered nature. They were still pirates, however.

As Grubbs climbed up the ladder, he looked at the deck he was blind to the night before. “Follow me,” the crew member said with a thick Japanese accent.

 _‘I wonder how many of them actually speak English,’_ Grubbs thought.

The Captain went in a separate direction, taking the first set of stairs to the main deck. Grubbs followed the crew member to the further set of the stairs, passing other members of the crew preparing themselves for a potential battle. They hurried up the stairs and the crew member went straight towards the double doors under the quarterdeck.

“Stay here...” he told Grubbs, directing him into the room. Grubbs felt as if the man had used the extent of his English and obeyed.

As he stepped further into the room, he examined it. It was fairly large, going a foot or two beyond the quarter deck above. The extra foot was a small alcove of windows. In front of the window was a large wooden desk and an equally large chair to go with it. Against the wall next to the alcove was a large bronze-coloured globe with a wooden stand and a flat platform at the bottom with an articulate design. Grubbs stared at it for a while. That wasn’t _just_ a globe.

But Grubbs’ thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a rude strike to the ship. The Spanish had attacked. Soon after, Grubbs heard yelling and gunshots. He backed up into the desk, making sure to stay clear of the door as much as possible. He wasn’t sure if he should hide behind the desk or if he was safe in his current spot. A Spanish soldier gave him his answer when the double doors were barged open. ‘ _He’s not a pirate!’_ Grubbs thought. With no hesitation, Grubbs climbed over the desk and hid under it. But not before the Spanish soldier saw him.

“¡Haga no piensa que puede ocultar de mí, el pirata!” he yelled in Spanish. Grubbs could not understand it but it did cause him to fear for his life. He heard a sword being drawn. Immediately, Grubbs thought it was going to go through the desk and ultimately through him. He was unarmed as well; a dead man. “Será rápido,” the soldier said in Spanish. Again, Grubbs had no idea what was being said. He scurried out from under the desk backwards, hitting and then going around the chair. Finally, he hit the wall, looking up at the Spanish soldier who gaped back at him. “Usted no es japonés,” he breathed. “Usted--”

He was cut off by a blade through his throat. The whites of his eyes showed as he fell to the ground—dead. The Captain stood in the spot of the now deceased Spanish soldier. She looked at Grubbs with a cold glare. It was not anger towards him, though. In fact, it wasn’t anger at all. It was more so she dropped all emotions for battle. She swiftly turned around as she pulled out a gun from her side and shot an approaching Spanish soldier.

“There’s a trap door over there,” she said, pointing to the furthest right corner. Hide in the storage deck until this is all over. Then I will deal with you.” Her voice was more demanding than before; but Grubbs knew that she wanted him safe. Maybe so she could harm him herself. He nodded and made his way to the trap door. He saw a brass handle in the floor and pulled the trap door up. When he looked down, he saw that it lead all the way to the lowest deck; the deck that he hid in last night. “Go!” the Captain’s voice yelled. Grubbs didn’t think she was still there. Now in slight panic, Grubbs quickly made his way down the ladder, stumbled a bit along the way, and pulled the door closed above him.

Once on the lower deck, he looked around to figure out where he was. It was the exact same spot he woke up in. He sighed as he gained familiarity of the deck. “Back at the beginning,” he mumbled. He hid in the exact spot he woke up in, behind the stack of crates. He thought it was safe, so he untensed and let out a sigh of relief. But it was too soon.

The sound of approaching voices caused Grubbs to tense up again. Two people were coming down the ladder on the other side of the deck. It was Spanish men, conversing in their native tongue as they made their way down. Feeling useless, Grubbs backed up farther against the wall. He had no idea what to do. Should he go back up the ladder to the Captain’s quarters or stay and fight the two Spanish men? Both could easily result in his death. He began to lose hope as both decisions were horrible.

He was starting to rethink his dream of becoming a pirate as the two Spanish men got closer to the back where Grubbs hid. Quickly, he looked around for a weapon and spotted a small sharp piece of wood hanging off a crate. Not enough to kill but maybe it would scare them. It was worth a try.

Picking up the piece of wood, Grubbs listened to the two men. They were close. _Really_ close. He breathed in deeply, his heart raced and his adrenaline started to pump. Finally, he shot up and...

“Stop!’ he yelled, shooting up to his feet and pointing the stake-like object at the two men. They stared at him with shocked faces for a few moments before bursting out into laughter. Grubbs felt slightly embarrassed and thought maybe it would have been a better idea to just go back up the ladder to the Captain’s quarters. Even being killed began to seem more appealing than being laugh at.

“He has a stick!” one barely let out while laughing entirely too hard.

“Ooohhh! I’m so scared!” the second one laughed in Spanish. Grubbs couldn’t understand them but sarcasm was universal. They were making fun of him and he knew it. “Wait...” the laughing died down as they looked at Grubbs. In Spanish, he said to the other, “He’s not Asian.”

“You’re right,” the other replied in Spanish. They continued to converse in their native language, making Grubbs feel awkward as he just stood there in wait.

As they spoke, Grubbs examined them. They weren’t wearing uniforms. Also, they were twins! Almost identical. The first one had long, black, shoulder-length hair, pulled back into a ponytail. The other one had short, tightly cut black hair.

“You two...” Grubbs started, interrupting their conversation. “Are you two...pirates?”

A few moments of silence passed before one of the two men answered. “I’m Emilio,” the long haired one answered. “This is my brother, Ermel.” His accent was thick but he was very understandable.

“I-I’m Grubbs...”

When he said his name, Ermel stifled a laugh. “Grubbs...” His brother smiled, more successful at hiding his amusement.

This was to be expected. “Are you pirates?”

“We’re conmen,” Emilio answered proudly as if it was the greatest thing in the world. “We were held hostage on the Spanish naval ship.”

“The battle was the perfect cover to escape and stow away here,” Ermel continued.

“What about you?” The twins stared Grubbs down.

“Uh, well...” Grubbs said. “I’m a stowaway.” He was just a fisherman with no real reason to be on the ship.

With no warning, the twins were grabbed from behind by members of the crew and forced to their knees. They were being yelled at in Japanese by them. Neither the twins nor Grubbs understood what was being said.

“¿Que?” Ermel responded to the rapid Japanese.

“Nan desu ka?” the crew member holding him asked, not understanding the Spanish.

“What?” Grubbs asked quietly. But not quietly enough as everyone looked him. Another crew member grabbed Grubbs and brought him to his knees.

“Bring them to the main deck,” a familiar voice spoke in Japanese. Grubbs realised it was the Asian man that was with the Captain the night before. The other crew members tied the twins and Grubbs behind their backs and brought them to their feet. They started making their way to the ladder on the other side of the deck. Grubbs wondered what was going to become of him. He had only been up for an hour and so much had happened. Is this what a pirate’s life is like?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a really long time since the last update for this story. I've been busy. But I'm working on a posting schedule for it so I can start being productive with it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are non-English phrases in this chapter, so for your convenience, I've created a glossary of foreign terms and phrases at the end of the chapter.

**Atlantic Ocean, April 1756**

The entire crew was on the main deck, cleaning up the dead bodies of the fallen soldiers and occasional comrades. Judging by the sight of more dead Spanish bodies than Japanese, Grubbs came to the conclusion that the pirates won. The Spanish ship was destroyed and way behind the pirates. Looking up at the steering wheel on the quarterdeck of the pirate ship, Grubbs saw the Captain. She looked around at the mess with a content look--probably satisfied that she won. Her gaze caught Grubbs’, and caused him to look away awkwardly. After a few seconds passed, Grubbs looked back at her. She was still staring at him. She was a mystery to him.

They stopped in front of the Captain’s cabin. The Captain jumped down from the quarterdeck and looked at Grubbs and the twins who were pushed down to their knees in front of her.

“Senchou...” the man from last night said to the Captain. “These three are stowaways,” he continued in Japanese. “They were found in the storage deck. Shall we dispose of them?”

=“Iie,” the Captain answered. She kneeled in front of the twins. “¿Como se llamas?” she asked them authoritatively.

_‘She speaks Spanish?!’_ Grubbs mentally yelled.

“Ermel,” answered Ermel.

“Y Emilio,” Emilio added.

The Captain paused, staring at the twins. “Estrada...?”

“Sí,” both twins answered with a nod.

“Aaah~...Los gemelos Estrada.” She looked over at Grubbs and stood up, telling the large man from last night to let him go.

“Senchou...”

“Choudo sore o okanau!” she ordered. No matter what language she spoke, she knew how to sound like a boss. The authority in her voice was so prominent that it made Grubbs wonder what happened to those who cross her. With a sigh of reluctance, the man untied Grubbs, setting him free. “I need to speak with you,” she told Grubbs.

_‘She’s really just saving my arse,’_ Grubbs thought.

“What about us?” Ermel asked.

“Yeah, do you need to speak with us, too?” Emilio added. “We can tell you a lot.” His tone was flirtatious and he winked at her.

The Captain responded with a look of disgust. “Put them in the cell,” she told the large man from last night in Japanese. “I’ll deal with them later.”

With that said, the man pulled the twins up to their feet and walked away with them.

“You speak Spanish?” Grubbs asked the Captain with sincere curiosity.

“I speak many languages, Stowaway. Come with me.” She made her way to her cabin, Grubbs followed closely behind. “I need to know a few things.”

“Uh, sure, anything.” She saved him. Giving her some information was the least he could do. He was not sure what kind of information he could give her, however. He knew absolutely nothing. “What is it that you need to know?”

The Captain went around the desk and sat down in the chair behind it. “Sit,” she said, as she motioned to a chair in front of the desk. Grubbs complied with the order and took a seat. A few seconds went by as the Captain stared at him, her fingers intertwined in front of her mouth.

“Um...” Grubbs started.

“Why are you here?” she asked abruptly, as she dropped her hands onto the desk.

Grubbs was taken aback by the violent way she asked the question. “I--I don’t know,” he answered. “I was curious, and--”

“Curious? About what?” She leaned forward, supporting herself with her left arm.

“I--I don’t know. I saw the ship and in a spur of the moment, I decided to take a look.” He paused for a moment. “Little did I know it was a _pirate_ ship.”

“That sounds irrational and unsafe,” she said. “And you stutter a lot.”

Now that he thought about it, it was an irrational and unsafe decision to climb aboard a pirate ship. He started to feel a little stupid. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You’re just lucky it was _my_ ship,” she smirked. “Not many _pirates_ would let a stowaway survive.”

“Th-thank you...Captain...” He couldn’t think of anything else to reply with. The Captain stood up and made her way to the golden globe at the side of the desk. Her hands gripped the northern hemisphere on either side and she lifted it up. She picked up a white ceramic flask. “Sake?” she asked Grubbs, making direct eye contact with him and causing him to flinch at her gaze.

“Pardon?” he asked. He had no idea what she said. She lifted the flask to show him. “Alcohol?”

She nodded. “Sake.”

“I’ve never had it before.”

“I can tell. Care to try?”

Grubbs hesitated for a moment. He didn’t want to be rude and deny an offering. “Okay,” he finally said.

She took out two small cups that matched the flask and poured the sake into each. Her movements were graceful as she replaced the flask in the globe, picked up the two cups, walked back her seat, placed one of the cups in front of Grubbs then took her seat. Though graceful, she was nonchalant. She had a certain class to her essence yet she drank the alcohol as if it was water. She had no hesitation in the consumption of the sake.

Feeling pressured, Grubbs took his cup in his hand and stared at the clear drink. He brought it close to his mouth and took a hesitant sip. It burned as it went down his throat, causing him to growl raspily.

“Careful,” she smirked. “It’s strong.”

“No kidding.” He let out another throat-clearing growl.

“You don’t have to finish it if you can’t handle it.”

Grubbs took that to the pride and gave her a challenging look. He quickly gulped down the rest of the sake in the cup and let out one last loud, throat-clearing growl to ease the alcohol burn. “I can handle it,” he said, barely able to speak.

The Captain looked at him with an appalled look. Immediately, Grubbs felt a little embarrassed and started to regret his decision. Her shocked look slowly changed into a smirk. “You sure can,” she mused. She let out a sigh. “Men and their pride.” She stood up, grabbed the flask, from the globe and took her seat again. “If you happen to want more,” she offered as she placed the flask in between them on the desk.

“So, Captain,” Grubbs said, “how does a young woman such as yourself become the Captain of a ship like this?”

“She doesn’t.”

“Pardon?” One simple question and she had already lost him.

“All this...the ship...the crew...the sake...none of it is rightfully mine.”

Grubbs was genuinely confused at this point. She commandeered the ship and crew as if it was hers. She acted as if it was all hers. “If none of it is yours...whose is it?”

“My fiancé’s.”

“You’re betrothed?” he spat out, shocked at the new information. “I would have never guessed.” He looked at her hand and actually saw the ring. How had he not noticed it before? “So your fiancé is the true owner of this ship?”

She answered with a nod.

“Where is he?”

There was a long pause as she just stared at him. Finally, she answered. “The night he asked me to marry him...we were ambushed by Syrian pirates...and they took him...” She took another pause to pour more sake into her cup and drink it. “We took one of their crew members...interrogated him... He told us that their Captain made a bargain with Davy Jones... A bargain that required my fiancé...”

“If you don’t mind my asking...what was the bargain?”

“Davy Jones had someone dear to him... He traded my fiancé...”

“A life for a life.”

“Fair yet unfair...” She poured another cup. “Since then we’ve been looking for the _Flying Dutchman_...in hopes of getting my fiancé back.”

“How long has it been?”

“Almost seventy-two days...”

“Do you believe...he’s still alive?” Grubbs hesitated with the question at first.

“Of course.” She looked him in the eye with a look that said ‘how dare you ask that’. Her tone was firm. Even if she was not the true Captain, she sure acted like one.

_‘Whoa...sorry I asked,’_ he thought. “Have you gotten close?”

“Actually...” she gave him a sly smirk. “We have...fairly.” Suddenly, there was a knock on the double doors of the room.

“Senchou!” a voice yelled.

“Nan desu ka?” the Captain replied in a normal voice, just loud enough for the other person to hear, but not leave a heavy awkward feeling in the air for Grubbs. The man proceeded to yell frantically in Japanese. “Heya ni hairu!” she interrupted him. Quickly, the man entered the room. “Nani?” she asked him. “Osoi.” The man repeated everything in a normal, slower tone to the Captain. When he was finished, she gave him a look of annoyance and stood up.

_‘I’m going to be left alone again,’_ Grubbs sighed in his mind.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said to Grubbs. “There’s something I need to take care of...” She finished the rest of the sake in her cup. “The twins are basically children.” With that said, she and the frantic crew member left the room and once again, Grubbs was left alone.

“I should probably learn Japanese,” Grubbs groaned to himself. It occurred to Grubbs that the language barrier was severe when it came to Grubbs’ English and the limited English of the crew. Then there were the Spanish-speaking twins. If Grubbs was to stay on this ship and travel to other language-speaking countries, he needed to learn other languages. A wave of determination washed over him as he stood up. “Time to go find someone who can teach me Japanese!” He strode to the doors and ripped them open. As he opened them, there were crew members walking around and working. The sound of Japanese being spoken, mumbled and yelled filled the air. It terrified Grubbs. Immediately, he retreated back into the Captain’s quarters. “Maybe I’ll just wait for her to come back...” He closed the door and went back to his seat.

Grubbs had no idea what to do. The Captain left him and he didn’t understand most of the people on the ship. He felt lost and confused. It was finally sinking in that he was all alone in an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people that could possibly kill him at any given time with no hesitation. He had to learn the ways of this crew so he could stay alive. He felt most comfortable around the Captain because she spoke English. Yet, he was also a little terrified of her because she seemed like she could kill him at any second without any hesitation. He was conflicted about whether or not to trust her.

Suddenly, Grubbs became curious about what the Captain had to do concerning the Estrada twins. He turned to the far right corner of the room where the trapdoor was and thought about going down to the bottom deck to see them. He took three steps forward before he was shocked into a halt by an ungodly noise followed by a sharp pain in his stomach. The pain felt like little pins and needles poking at the inside of his stomach and he felt an empty sensation in his core. He was _starving_.

Grubbs was at a loss of what to do. All possibilities he could think of ended up with him being killed or in big trouble. He decided to go through with the plan of going through the trapdoor. He continued on and bent down to grab the handle. As he pulled the door up, he looked down the narrow passage.

“¡Ella nos va a matar!” the semi-familiar voice of Emilio yelled from the lower deck. It echoed through the small passage Grubbs was about to enter.

“No voy a matarte,” the very familiar voice of the Captain responded. “Mientras haces lo que te dicen.” The sound of a sword being drawn could be heard.

Grubbs reconsidered his decision to go down there. His stomach growled once more and he put his hand to it as he silently prayed that the noise didn’t echo through the passage. When he heard no response of any kind, he sighed in relief and began to make his way down the ladder to the lowest deck.

“¡Locura!” Ermel yelled, followed by a dark laugh from the Captain.

Once on the deck, Grubbs looked around and scanned for the cell the twins were kept in and the Captain. They were on the right side of the deck. The cell took up a good portion of the wall of the ship. It was large, proportionate to the side of the ship. The Captain sat atop crates and conversed with the twins in Spanish. Grubbs was not sure what to do. He didn’t want to be rude and interrupt; but she was the only person who could help him. “Ahem,” he cleared his throat and stepped towards them. The three foreigners turned to him.

“What are you doing here?” the Captain snapped as if the three were in an important meeting. For all Grubbs knew, they could have been having an important meeting.

“I’m hungry,” Grubbs answered. It didn’t occur to him how childish that may have sounded until he heard the twins snickering in their cell.

“Mr. Morrison, how old are you?”

“T-twenty-four...” answered Grubbs, unsure if the question was rhetorical or not.

“So don’t act like a child. You’re a grown man. If you’re hungry, find the ship’s cook. Don’t come to me. I am not your mother. He speaks English. You’ll be fine.”

“We’re hungry, too!” Ermel said.

“Yeah!” his brother chimed in. “But we can’t go and find the ship’s cook because we’re locked up!”

“Shut up!” the Captain demanded. The twins stepped away from the bars of the brig. There was a long moment of silence. The tension in the general area was thick. It felt like an eternity before she spoke again. “Reiji!” she called. The large man from last night came down from the deck above.

“Senchou...” he said as he made his way towards the cell. The Captain spoke to him in Japanese, as Grubbs and the twins stood there and stared at them, lost in translation. When they were finished, Reiji went to the cell and began to unlock it.

“Are you letting us go?” Emilio asked the Captain with hope.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” the Captain responded. “You think I’m going to let you two go? The Estrada twins. The two most wanted criminals in Spain.”

“Whoa, whoa! ‘Criminals’ is such a strong word.”

“Do you know the reward that’s over your heads? You think I’m going to let you go?

“How much of a reward?” Ermel asked skeptically.

“2,500 pesetas each.”

“Coño...I wouldn’t let us go.” Emilio shot a glare towards his brother, causing him to flinch.

The Captain spoke to Reiji in Japanese once more and he exited the deck with the twins, leaving the Captain and Grubbs alone. The silence was long and the tension in the general area did not thin out. Grubbs was about to say something but was cut off by the demonic sound of his stomach growling. The noise earned him a look from the Captain; she heard it loud and clear.

“Let’s go,” she said as she led him to the ladder.

 

Later that night, Grubbs lay in the bed of the quarters given to him by the Captain. The room was small and situated under the Captain’s quarters. There was one window and no door in the doorway. He was uncomfortable by the fact that there was no door and anyone could look into the room. The bed itself was uncomfortable, too; but no one could expect much from a bed on a pirate ship. He hadn’t seen the Estrada twins since the afternoon and wondered what the Captain had done to them.

Grubbs was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. The day had been eventful and it drained his energy. Rolling over onto his side, he stared out the window at the third quarter moon. He’d never seen the moon so close and bright before. There was something about being on the sea that made the sky look gorgeous.

Staring at the moon, Grubbs thought about a lot. How there was no turning back. He was stuck on this ship with pirates. Not only were they pirates, most of them didn’t even speak English. He wasn’t sure how he was going to survive.

The last of his thoughts exited his mind as he turned to face the wall that the bed was against and drifted off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Japanese Terms and Phrases
> 
> Senchou-Captain  
> Iie-No  
> Choudo sore o okanau!-Just do it!  
> Nan desu ka?-What is it?  
> Heya ni haru!-Enter the room!  
> Nani?-What?  
> Osoi.-Slow.
> 
>  
> 
> Spanish Terms and Phrases
> 
> ¿Como se llamas?-What are your names?  
> Los gemelos Estrada-The Estrada Twins  
> ¡Ella nos va a matar!-She's going to kill us!  
> No voy a matarte,-I'm not going to kill you.  
> Mientras haces lo que te dicen.-As long as you do what you're told.  
> ¡Locura!-Insanity!  
> Coño-Shit/Damn


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, huh? Sorry 'bout that.

Chapter Five

**Atlantic Ocean, May 1756**

It had been one week since Grubbs stowed away aboard the _Akuma no Shofu_. Still, he had almost no memory of the way things ran. Whenever he figured he had something right, he was yelled at for doing it wrong. It almost made him want to give up, however, he probably would have gotten yelled at for it. The fact that the ones who yelled at him spoke no English only added salt to the wound. His view on pirates began to change from just the one week, however. His original view on pirates was that they were all cunning, manipulative thieves. With the exception of a few namely members of this crew, they were not so. A good majority of the pirates on this ship were actually polite and humble. Grubbs wondered daily if all or most pirates were like that or if it was maybe because these particular pirates were Japanese.

            Within the one week, Grubbs befriended a few members of the crew: a cabin boy, a storage keeper, but more memorably, the cook, Thomas. These were among the few people of the crew that knew English. Of the three, though, Grubbs liked Thomas the most. He was half Japanese and half English. That alone made Grubbs feel like he could relate. Most of Grubbs’ days were spent in the kitchen where he conversed with Thomas when he was not put to work by the Captain.

            The Captain had put Grubbs and the twins to work on the ship. She’d have them clean the deck and do other dirty work. However, in the past week, Grubbs had not seen much of the Captain. He’d only seen her a few minutes of the day each day.

            Grubbs hauled a mop bucket full of water to the main deck. As per usual, people were working to keep the ship together. He took the bucket to the edge of the ship and dumped the water into the ocean. He looked out onto the horizon, where the morning sun had begun to rise. He took into consideration the side of the ship the sun was on and what direction the ship headed in. They moved south and the climate had already begun to change. Everyone could feel the humidity. It had been a long time since Grubbs had seen so much sun. England was always so foggy and cloudy and rain was almost a daily thing. He really enjoyed the sun.

            With one swift turnaround, Grubbs saw Reiji. “Excuse me,” he called out. Reiji--who was on his way to the quarterdeck-- halted. “Where is the Captain?” With no verbal answer, Reiji looked up, Grubbs followed along, confused. “Uh,” Grubbs started before he realised that the Captain was in the crow’s nest. ‘ _Is that where’s been all week?’_ he wondered. He’d barely seen her all week and maybe that was where she could have been hiding. When Grubbs looked ahead, Reiji was already gone. ‘ _How do you get up there?_ ’ Then it occurred to him that the main mast was the way.

            Grubbs made his way to the mast, examining the wooden pole. There were small handles sticking out, each about a foot apart. He grabbed onto the one at arm’s reach above him and began to climb up.

            “While you’re up there,” Reiji called from the quarterdeck, “ask her what the heading is.”

            “Okay,” Grubbs responded, unsure if Reiji even heard him. As he continued to climb, he concentrated on maneuvering his way up as the grips were hard to actually grip. He made it to the first platform only to find out that the Captain was not there. "She's not here," he called down to Reiji on the quarterdeck.

     "Because that's not the crow's nest," Reiji called back.

     "Are you serious?" Grubs looked up and realised that there were two more platforms above him. "You have got to be kidding me." Reluctantly, Grubbs continued up to the crow's nest. ' _I can see why she stays there all day,'_ he thought. _'Climbing this more than once a day would not be the easiest thing. Maybe she got stuck. Like a cat.'_ Grubbs made it to the second platform. Already he was feeling the burn in his arms and thighs. He rested for a few seconds before continuing up to the third and final platform. It took all of his willpower to not look down as he was almost at the highest point of the ship. When he finally reached the platform, he crawled away from the edge in a hurry and bumped into the Captain. He looked up and saw her looking down at him with a slight glare.

     "You found me..." she said.

     "Why here?" he asked, trying to hide how winded and utterly exhausted he was.

     "It's away from people. I can think more clearly. It's quiet."

     "You've spent entire days up here?"

     "Sunrise to sunset on some occasions. Sunrise to sunrise or sunset to sunset on others."

     "Is that healthy?"

     "Probably not. Why are you here?"

     "I was a little worried." Grubbs looked out onto the ocean. The scenery was beautiful. _'I can see another reason to spend a long time up here,'_ he thought. The crow's nest had to have some sort of significance to her. Something big. Then it occurred to him. "Did he propose to you up here?" he asked hesitantly.

     There was a long pause before she nodded and answered, "Yes..." She sat down in the platform, cross-legged and stared out onto the horizon. Grubbs sat down as well, staring with her. There wasn't anything else he could do but just sit with her. "You're looking for your father, aren't you, Mr. Morrison?" she asked after a long silence.

      _'How did she know that?'_ Grubbs thought. "Um...yes..." he answered. "How did you--"

     "Morrison," she interrupted. “William Morrison...your father. You think he is alive and you want to find him.”

            “You know him?”

            “I know _of_ him. They say he died in an encounter with Flying Dutchman. But it takes a fool to believe a great pirate like that would go down so easily. Then again, no one has seen him in years.”

            “I would have felt it if he died.”

            “I know you would.” He figured she would feel the same about her fiancé. “That is why you and I are going to find something out next time we make port.” They both stood up and stepped towards the mast to climb down. “Go,” she said. “I will be down there in a few minutes.”

            “All right.” Grubbs began to climb down but stopped about three feet down. “Do we have a heading?”

            “Haiti,” she answered with a smirk.

 

            “Haiti?!” Reiji exclaimed. “What is she thinking?”

            “That is beyond me,” Grubbs replied. “She will be coming down soon. Ask her.”

            “Only an imbecile would ask Azumi about her plans.”

            _‘Azumi?’_ Grubbs thought. _‘That’s her name?’_ Grubbs had been onboard for a week and that was the first time he’d ever heard her name.

            “She will tell me a little about what’s going on. She’ll never tell me her entire plan. Just the parts I’m a part of.”

            “What is your relationship with her?”

            “Other than being her first mate, she is my best friend’s fiancée.” It was all starting to make sense to Grubbs. “I am the only person on this ship that she fully trusts.”

            “That alone sounds like a lot of responsibility.”

            “I can tell you that it is not easy.” The two made their way down to the main deck as the Captain was coming down. “Azumi…” Reiji said.

            “Reiji…” she answered, almost mocking his voice.

            “Haiti?”

            “Haiti.” The two proceeded to go back and forth with questions and answers in Japanese, once again leaving Grubbs out of the circle. He just stood around as usual until they finished.

            When they finished, they looked at Grubbs who smiled awkwardly at them. “I understand,” Reiji said to the Captain. The two dispersed and left Grubbs.

            “Um…”” Grubbs said.

            “Get back to work, stowaway.”

            Grubbs recalled what Reiji said about only telling him the parts of the plans he’s a part of. _‘She’ll tell me when she needs to, I suppose,’_ he thought. With that, he made his way starboard and picked up a bucket, preparing to mop the main deck.

     "Good morning, Master Morrison," said Thomas the cook. He was walking up the stairs from the deck below with a large bucket full of the front and back ends of fish.

     "Morning, Tom," Grubbs replied. "What are you up to?"

     "Just throwing out the garbage of last night's dinner." He made his way starboard and dumped the contents of the bucket into the ocean. "Hopefully they'll catch something different where we're going. Where _are_ we going anyway?"

     "Haiti."

     "Interesting..."

     "Oh?" Grubbs was curious as to why Thomas thought the heading to Haiti was interesting.

     "We went to England from Tortuga. Now we're going back?"

     "Tortuga?" Grubbs repeated.

     "An island off of Haiti. Full of pirates and bandits. Horrible place to be, really." He began to make his way back down below. "I wonder what her intentions are..." With that said, he disappeared below, leaving Grubbs alone in the increasing morning heat.

      "As do I..." Grubbs mumbled, looking at the quarterdeck where the Captain stood, looking around the ship and beyond. She always looked so lost in another world. _'Maybe she's gone mad...'_ he thought. It seemed to be the only logical explanation to anything she ever said or did. He decided to go with it and assume she was insane. He went back to mopping the deck, feeling the heat from the morning sun on against his back. Along with the heat of the sun, he felt the strong gaze of the Captain against his back as well. It made him uncomfortable but he tried to ignore it and pretended not to notice. He mopped around him, slowly turning toward the quarterdeck. He looked up and saw the Captain just a few feet away. "Captain?" he questioned.

     They stared at each other for a few seconds before she looked at the ground, took a step toward him and pointed at his feet. "You missed a spot," she said.

     "Huh?" Grubbs looked down at his feet, only to be caught off guard by a knee to the stomach, followed by a pinch to a nerve on his neck. He felt disoriented.

     "Take him below," the muffled voice of the Captain said as everything went black. That was the last thing Grubbs heard.


End file.
